


A New Start

by Hazza902



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Real Person Fiction, Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Bullying, Coming Out, Developing Relationship, Dyslexia, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Gay, M/M, POV First Person, Present Tense, Slurs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-01
Updated: 2021-02-06
Packaged: 2021-03-10 16:48:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 14,391
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28480404
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hazza902/pseuds/Hazza902
Summary: Four months ago, Toby transferred to a new private school. His main goal is to finish his last year in high school with good grades without drawing any attention. He manages to fly under the radar quite well until one Tommy Simons, the most popular boy in school, takes an interest in him.
Relationships: Toby Smith | Tubbo/TommyInnit
Comments: 63
Kudos: 533





	1. Chapter 1

Mornings in the Smith house are known to be tumultuous affairs and today was no different.  
  
“Lani, open the door!” I shout. I got out of bed early only to be left standing outside the bathroom door for the past ten minutes.  
  
“I swear to God, if you don’t open this door in the next minute, I’m going to kick it down.” It's bad enough that I have to use the bathroom after someone else - I hate it when the floor is wet and the mirror is all fogged up.

I bang on the door again with my fist and it opens. Lani steps out from the steam-filled room and fixes me with an unimpressed look.  
  
“If you got up earlier, you wouldn't have to wait. Effective time management is the key to successful living.” Lani is thirteen years old but has the personality of a middle-aged woman. “When you head to college next year, you won’t have me to help you. So let’s work on that, shall we?”  
  
She taps me on my shoulder as if to encourage me. Before I can think of an appropriate response it’s already too late. She’s closed her bedroom door, and I am left standing there like a scolded child. Who would believe that I’m three years older?  
  
“Breakfast is ready!” Dad says from downstairs.  
  
“I haven't showered yet!” I call back.  
  
“You’re going to be late, Toby,” Mom responds.   
  
“I know, Mom!” Muttering under my breath, I enter the bathroom.  
  
I normally enjoy taking a long shower, but I don’t want to be late again. The school already sent a letter to Mom and Dad to notice them about my less-than-ideal punctuality since school started six months ago.  
  
Ten minutes later, I emerge from the bathroom. With a towel around my waist, I run back to my bedroom and quickly put on my uniform – navy pants and a crisp white button-down shirt.  
  
Trent College is flexible on many things, but the dress code is something that the school isn’t willing to budge on. I transferred from a public middle school this year, and the private school uniform took some getting used to. I’d much rather wear jeans and a T-shirt.  
  
The only thing missing is my tie. I rifle through the piles of clothes that lie forgotten on my bedroom floor. I’m not the neatest person in the world, which earns me countless lectures from Mom. But I figure that within the sanctity of my own bedroom, I am allowed to be my true self – which encompasses my sometimes forgetting to put my dirty clothes in the laundry basket.  
  
Hidden under a shirt, I find the silver-and-white-striped tie. It’s odd that the school emblem is three eagles in a triangle, given that our mascot is the lion, but this is Trent College, so we don’t question it…much.  
  
I pick up my blazer from where I threw it yesterday. There are some wrinkles and I try to smooth them out, but there’s simply no saving this dull navy monstrosity. Maybe it’s time I start listening to Mom and put it on a hanger.

I take the stairs two at a time and almost slip on the hardwood floors, only saving myself from falling by gripping the kitchen island.  
  
“You’re going to hurt yourself one day, Toby,” Mom says. “And don’t roll your eyes at me like that.”  
  
I don't have time to argue with her so I walk to the dinner table. There is a bowl of porridge waiting for me. I don’t know why they keep giving me that stuff because they know I can’t stand it. It’s boring and tastes like wallpaper paste. Sometimes I just dump a load of sugar in it but it's already late, so I grab my spoon and take a couple of scoops. Yep, bland.   
  
Dad looks expectantly at me, pausing his dishwashing. He started making our breakfast since Mom complained that she does all the hard work in the house, which is also the time since porridge became part of the menu.  
  
I try my best at a smile. "Yum." He nods approvingly and continues washing the pan in his hands. I take two more bites before I have enough.  
  
“Bye!” I call as I race from the kitchen. I stop at the door to put on my school shoes, put on my overcoat, and grab my messenger bag from the hook.   
  
“Have a nice day,” Dad calls.  
  
“Love you,” Mom adds.  
  
“You too,” I say, my mouth still slightly full. I exit the house, walk toward my bike, and rush to school.  
  
*  
  
Despite my best efforts to get on time, which includes passing a red light and nearly getting run over by a car, I’m late by about fifteen minutes.  
  
To make matters worse, Wednesdays start with English class, my least favorite subject. I also happen to suck at it. I’m actually quite clever, but being dyslexic means some things are difficult for me. Like when I read a book, it’s like the words are jumping all over the place.  
  
People at my old school used to laugh at my struggles, calling me a dunce or a retard. When it got worse over time, it started to negatively impact my grades. It’s one of the reasons I left. Things have been somewhat better at Trent College, although transferring to a new school brings its own challenges.  
  
After dropping my overcoat in my locker, I rush to the auditorium. I stand in front of the double doors and wait. Besides the trouble it gives from being late to class, I hate the attention it gets me. I take a deep breath and go in. The double doors swing open with a screech, announcing my arrival.  
  
Mr. Evans circles on me to pierce me with his accusatory gaze. “Toby.” I can feel the blood rushing to my face and my palms getting wet. “Hurry up and join us. You’re disrupting the class.”  
  
“Sorry,” I say.  
  
Mr. Evans returns his attention to the rest of the class. “As you can see, everybody has already been paired up. But lucky for you, Mr. Smith, there is another latecomer this morning. Find the assignment breakdown on the chair upfront. You and he will be partners. Be prepared to present next Monday. No exceptions.”  
  
I nod and walk up to the podium. The auditorium is large and it’s a long walk. There are rows and rows of crimson seats to pass. I look down as I feel the eyes of my classmates on me.   
  
The rest of the class is already seated in a circle on the podium. They have their copies of Romeo and Juliet open in front of them. We do have an actual classroom with desks and proper chairs, but Mr. Evans believes that Shakespeare belongs in the theater and it must be performed instead of reading. So each class, we take turns playing a role. He wants us to take the space around us, to become the characters.  
  
I find a spot and sit cross-legged, placing my blazer next to me. I pull my own copy of Romeo and Juliet from my bag and turn to the page where we last left off. One of the perks of being late is that I have avoided being assigned a role, so I won’t have to act. Despite my getting better at reading, I still find it uncomfortable to do so out loud.  
  
I listen to the readings and recognize which act we're at, so I flip to the right page and try to read along (I mostly listen since it's hard to keep up with how quickly they talk). It’s the scene where Romeo and Juliet are parted. Justin has been cast as Romeo, and I curse at myself for being late. I almost missed out on having a legitimate excuse to stare at him.  
  
After the act ends, Mr. Evans holds up his hand to pause us. “Excellent work, class. I think we should stop for the day. Why don’t you all break into your pairs and discuss the assignment?”  
  
While I'm waiting for my partner to arrive, I study Justin and his partner, wishing that I were lucky enough to work with him. At school, I’ve never really spoken to him aside from a few hellos here and there. He’s a popular kid so we don’t run in the same circles, which is fine. I don’t need popularity. Being anonymous is safest for me. I can exist with my secrets intact.  
  
I spent a couple of minutes reading through the assignment before the doors open and we all turn as the man of the hour saunters into the auditorium. Tommy Simons. The most popular boy at Trent college. He looks perfectly tousled – effortless and smooth. The sight piques me more than it should.  
  
“Sorry I’m late, Mr. Evans,” Tommy says.  
  
“Welcome, Mr. Simons. Glad you could fit us into your busy schedule.” Some people laugh. Mr. Evans looks between Tommy and me. “I hope both you and Toby can be a bit more mindful about getting time in the future.” I look away as I feel the attention of the class shifting to me. “Toby, please explain the assignment to Tommy,” Mr. Evans continues.  
  
I nod and stand. Grabbing my belongings, I walk down the steps and off the stage. I sit on one of the fold-down seats and place my things next to me. Tommy’s stealing glances at his iPhone.

Annoyed, I say, “Here.” I hold out a copy of the assignment. “We need to choose a scene from a Shakespeare movie adaptation and perform it next week.”

Tommy accepts the paper from my hand. “You okay?”  
  
“Peachy.”  
  
Tommy picks up on my sarcasm and looks up. His grey eyes have a habit of looking through you. “Is something wrong?”  
  
“No,” I lie. “Let’s just get this over with. We should make some time to get together. When do you have time?”  
  
Before he can say anything, his phone rings. I recognize the ringtone. It’s a lesser-known song from my favorite band – The Script. Tommy stares at the screen and I see the caller ID – Mom. He swipes his thumb across the cracked screen and ignores the call.  
  
Tommy sighs. He picks up my blazer before taking the seat next to me. He rests his arm on the armrest and we end up touching.  
  
“You free this afternoon?”  
  
I look up from our arms. Our eyes meet and my heart skips a beat. This is the closest I’ve ever been to Tommy. I jerk my arm away. Tommy frowns.  
  
“Uh, yes. I’m free,” I answer.  
  
“Then how about we get together after school and decide on what we’re going to perform.”  
  
“Okay. Where?”  
  
“We can’t go to my house. My parents are busy renovating the house so it’s a big mess,” Tommy says. “Can we go to your place?”  
  
“Sure.”  
  
“Meet me at the bike racks after school then.”  
  
“Sounds like a plan.”


	2. Chapter 2

Nobody’s home yet when we arrive at my house.  
  
“Here you go,” I say as I hand Tommy a glass of strawberry lemonade. “Once you finish that, come up to my room.” I finish my own glass in one go. I wipe my mouth with the back of my hand and leave the glass on the kitchen counter. I walk to the stairway and once I’m halfway up the stairs I shout, “I’ll see you in a sec!”  
  
I open the door to my bedroom, ready to do some damage control, but the mess in my bedroom isn’t as bad as I anticipated. It seems Mom or Dad picked up the dirty clothes from the floor this morning. I make a mental note to scold them later for entering my room without my permission. On the upside, this only leaves my unmade bed that requires attention. The comforter is heaped in a pile on the middle of the bed, so I take it all the way off and then place it neatly on top. I fluff the two pillows, one which has a cover that says ‘Ew, people’ and the other ‘I am not a morning person’ before putting them back on the bed. I step back and review my work. It’ll have to do.  
  
“Aw, all of that for me?”  
  
I freeze and my heart skips a beat as Tommy walks inside. Another mental note: Tommy Simons might be a ninja. I give him a swat on his arm and ask, “Do you often sneak up on people like that?”  
  
“Indeed I do,” Tommy responds as he starts exploring my room. “Nice room, mate.”  
  
I mutter a word of thanks as I sit down on my desk chair. I’m sure he said it out of politeness because my room is nothing special. It has all the basic necessities for a teenager my age. Besides the typical bedroom staples such as a wardrobe and a small desk from IKEA, there is a comfy leather chair. Also under the category of basic necessities is my PS4, set up vertically beside my TV. It’s my most prized possession.   
  
Tommy inhales deeply. “So this is what your room smells like?”  
  
“Smells like what?” I say surprised as I take a couple of sniffs myself. There shouldn’t be anything smelly in here. “I don’t smell anything? What does it smell like to you?  
  
He slowly moves his head up and down and squints his eyes, like he’s trying hard to pick up on all the scents in the room. Then he looks at me and says, “Ass,” in a matter-of-fact way.  
  
I hold his gaze for a second before we both burst out laughing. “I’m pretty sure that’s you,” I say as I gasp for air as tears form in my eyes from all the laughter.  
  
“I don’t think so,” Tommy says as he walks over and presents his neck to me. “I’ve been told I smell like fresh strawberries. Care to try?”  
  
I’m still laughing as Tommy basically pushes his neck under my nose. My face is burning up at the closeness of Tommy’s face. It’s not strawberries he smells like, but rather a sweet and woody aroma. It’s quite lovely really – not that I’d ever mention that to him. I push him away to get myself under control. “Get out of here, you twat.”  
  
“You blush a lot, don’t you?” Tommy says.  
  
I don’t respond as I look away from him. “Enough with the jokes.” I open the laptop on my desk and log in. The Windows logon sound plays and I open Word and Internet Explorer. “Can we talk about the assignment now?”  
  
Tommy lets himself fall on my bed with a thump. I try not to think too much about the fact that the most popular boy in school is sitting on the same bed that I sleep in every day. “That is certainly an option.”  
  
“Okay, so let’s—”

“Weren’t it for the fact that I need to get in the mood first.”  
  
I turn around. “In the mood for…?”  
  
“You know,” Tommy says as he gives me a little eyebrow waggle. I roll my eyes at his lame innuendo but the corners of my mouth twitch until they form upwards and I break out in laughter again.  
  
“I need to get in the mood to work first. My mind can focus better when I have some fun first.” He jumps off the bed and walks to my TV. He turn it on with the remote and grabs the two PlayStation controllers beside it. He throws one at me.  
  
I shake my head disapprovingly but accept it anyway. “Fine, but only for a bit.” The clock on the PS4 home screen indicates it’s only three o’clock, so we actually do have plenty of time.  
  
Tommy sits back on the bed. He pushes the button on his controller to turn on the PS4. “Tubbo114 – is that you?” he says as he sees my user profile on the top of the screen.  
  
I nod. Meanwhile Tommy is busy scrolling through the games that are downloaded on my PS4.  
  
First we play Team Sonic Racing, basically a Mario Kart rip-off and Tommy protests that I cheat when I win all three matches. He demands we play another game so next we play some Call of Duty. After just two matches Tommy throws his head back.  
  
“Ah, I can’t beat you. I never play these types of games.”  
  
I flip my hair dramatically. “I can’t help it that you’re bad.”  
  
Tommy lets out a war cry and grabs one of the pillows on the bed, throwing it at me. “Don’t get cheeky with me, bitch.” I laugh and throw the pillow back at him.  
  
Finally we decide to settle to score by starting a dance game. It’s a game I rarely play and am not very good at. I start out slow, because I don’t want to embarrass myself, but next to me Tommy is dancing like a maniac. He jumps up and down and shakes his hips without shame to mimic the on-screen dancers, so I join him as we both enter a hypercompetitive state.  
  
“Oi, careful!” I say when Tommy almost hits me in the stomach with his controller while performing the crazy choreography on the screen.  
  
“Then get out of my way, bitch!” Tommy shouts back. “I’m going to beat your ass!”  
  
A dozen songs later, we’re both tired and sweaty and decide we both won. I crash on the bed to catch my breath. Music from the game still plays in the background when Tommy lets himself fall next to me on the bed. Our arms touch but he doesn’t seem to mind because all he does is breathe in and out with his eyes closed. Meanwhile my heart is racing and it’s not just from the exertion a moment ago. I know it isn’t real but just for a moment, I can imagine what it would feel like if Tommy was my boyfriend.  
  
Tommy is the first to break the silence between us. “So we have to choose a scene from a Shakespeare adaptation and perform it?”  
  
“Yes.” I sit up. “Do you have a favorite Shakespeare play?”  
  
“Not really,” Tommy says as he also sits up. “Do you?”

“Romeo and Juliet,” I say. “Not the play, but the movie. The old one, from the nineties.”  
  
“Well, we should choose a scene from that.”  
  
“No, we don’t have to do the one I like.” I distance myself a bit from Tommy because sitting so close to him is getting too intense for me.

He laughs. “It’s not that. It’s just that I know Mr. Evans loves that movie, too. He mentioned it when we first started reading Romeo and Juliet.”  
  
“Are you—” I say just as his phone rings.  
  
Tommy looks from me to the ringing phone. “It’s my mom. She’s abroad for work. I should take this.”  
  
“Go ahead.”  
  
Tommy answers the phone. “Hey, Mom. How—what?” Tommy’s frown deepens as he listens to his mother. “What kind of accident?” Two minutes later, he hangs up. “My sister’s in the hospital.”   
  
“What happened?” I ask.  
  
“She was in a car accident on her way home from school.”  
  
“Is she okay?”  
  
He nods. “It’s just minor injuries. But I should head over there. Mom can’t visit because she’s abroad for work and my dad, well…”  
  
“Of course,” I say as Tommy looks down. “No need to explain.”  
  
Tommy smiles softly. He swipes his phone to unlock it and holds it out to me. “Save your number so I can text you. We can talk more about the assignment later.”  
  
There is a Minecraft background on his phone. I click the phone icon and press the button to add a new number. Because of his phone’s cracked screen, it takes me two tries to hit the final eight of my phone number. Satisfied, I hand the phone back to him.  
  
“Sweet.” He puts his phone back in his pocket. “I’ll text you later.”  
  
I walk him downstairs and lead him to the backyard where he parked his scooter. He waves bye and I wave back as I watch him drive off through the gate.

*  
  
“Did you bring someone home today?” Dad asks when we’re at the dinner table.  
  
Mom cooked pasta with smoked chicken for us. It’s actually one of my favorite meals besides fish and chips with mushy peas, so there’s a big heap of pasta with lots of creamy sauce on my plate. “Why?” I say as I pierce a piece of pasta on my fork and shove it in my mouth.  
  
“Because Lani told us she saw someone drive off from our backyard just before she arrived,” he says.  
  
I turn my head to look at Lani. The little snitch just shrugs before she looks back at her plate.  
  
“Uh, yeah," I say with my mouth full. "We were working on an assignment.”  
  
Mom and Dad share a look. It’s Mom who asks the question they both want to know the answer to. “With who?”  
  
“A friend.”  
  
“Who exactly is this friend?” Dad asks.  
  
Sometimes it’s as clear as day that my parents’ favorite television shows are the one about detectives. Their third-degree interrogations are expected.  
  
“He’s just one of my classmates.”  
  
“Oh, it’s a him,” Mom says. “That’s disappointing.”  
  
I hold my breath and suppress a sigh. Not this type of conversation again. For the past months they've been going on about me finding a girlfriend.   
  
“Me too,” Dad says. “I was about to give him some dating advice.”  
  
Mom meets my gaze. “If your father ever tries to advise you on how to date, please do the opposite of what he says. He was truly terrible at it.”  
  
“It worked on you, didn’t it? So it couldn’t have been all bad,” Dad says.  
  
“I was charmed by how bad and awkward you were.”  
  
“Then Toby won’t have any problems,” Lani says. “We can all imagine just how bad and awkward he’ll be at dating.”  
  
I force myself to join in on the laughter. For the rest of the dinner, I go through the motions. I analyze everything they say to me, looking for any hint that they suspect anything.  
  
After dinner, with a mumbled excuse about homework, I retreat to my bedroom, closing the door behind me. My room is the only place in my world where I can let my truth fly free.  
  
*  
  
Tommy does text me later that evening.  
  
I’m lying on my bed, reading the next few scenes of Romeo and Juliet. It’s a habit of mine to read ahead so it’s easier to keep up in class. I always want to be prepared for the inevitability of being selected to perform. I’m still a bumbling mess whenever I’m assigned a role, but I am certain I’d be one hundred times worse without having done the preparation.  
  
I spot a message from an unknown number and reach for my phone. Another one comes through. I swipe to unlock my phone and open the messages.  
  
_Sorry, I meant to message your earlier, but I had to take care of some things.  
__it’s Tommy btw.  
_  
Another message: _Simons, that is.  
  
_I smile. As if anyone at Trent college would need the clarification. I reply: _I know.  
  
_I take this opportunity to save his number. I add: _How’s your sister doing?  
  
_I sit up and rest my head against the wall. Tommy replies two minutes later. Not that I am watching the clock or anything.  
_  
She’s fine. Just a few scrapes and bruises, thank god.  
  
_Another message follows hot on its heels, and it sends heat rushing to my face. _And you? Still hot and bothered by our little dance competition?_  
  
I try to come up with a fitting response before Tommy sends another message.  
  
_You’re probably blushing right now. Haha. It’s awesome._  
  
I smile. I mentally scold myself because he’s right, I can feel my face getting hotter.   
  
_Why do you like me blushing so much?_ I ask. I add a tongue-out emoji for kicks. Let’s just see how much Tommy likes me flirting.  
  
_I don’t know. I guess I like how honest it is. Your mouth may lie but your face can’t. It’s like a siren._  
  
_Well then, I promise to blush for you a lot._  
  
I watch the dancing ellipsis as I wait for his response. And when the dots disappear, I worry that maybe I overstepped. Maybe I shouldn’t have flirted with a straight guy. I move to lie on my back. I’m holding my phone above me when I see his reply. I drop my phone again and it smacks me in the middle of my face. And only that pain proves that this is all real and happening.  
  
On my screen is a selfie of Tommy Simons. His face is pulled into an overdramatic shocked expression. And he captioned it: _Are you flirting with me?_  
  
_Let’s see if you’re blushing. Send me a selfie. You have to give as good as you get._ I read his new text and start to type a response saying no but I stop halfway. When, if ever, will I be given a chance like this?  
  
With a pounding heart, I open my camera and tap the front view. Instantly I am assaulted by the sight of me. My messy brown hair sticks up in different directions. It’s longer than I normally keep it, and in a few weeks I will need to visit the barber.  
  
Whoever thought that the front-view camera was a great idea was sorely mistaken. Just as quickly as I opened it, I close it. This is a bad idea. There’s a reason why my Instagram only has three photos in total, and why only one of them is of me and my face.  
  
_Ticktock._ His words mock me. They urge me on.  
  
I open the camera again and extend my arm. There’s a click and a flash as I take the picture. I turn to study it. It’s terrible – a crime against humanity. For the next two minutes, I try to perfect the art of the selfie, until finally I succeed. The last photo that I take before giving up isn’t half bad. I’m posing with my arm behind my head, and my brown eyes surprisingly don’t look vacant or dead.  
  
I’m also smiling wildly – showing off perfectly straight teeth, one of the few physical features that I’m actually proud of. And before the shambles of my confidence scatter on the wind, I hit send.  
  
I add a caption: _happy now?_  
  
He responds not even a minute later.  
  
_Delighted, you sexy bitch._ He sends a stream of confetti-cannon emojis with his message.  
  
As we chat, it almost becomes like he’s sitting next to me. So much so that I imagine him doing just that. There is no distance between us now, there are no phones and texts. It’s just him and me here in my bedroom.  
  
“You know, you’re strangely more talkative over text,” Tommy says.  
  
“That’s because you can’t see me,” I say. “I’m a really anxious person. And on top of that, I also have this huge secret that I would prefer no one knowing until I leave this place.”  
  
“Ohhh what secret?”  
  
“Maybe I’ll tell you one day.”  
  
“Could you get any more interesting?”  
  
I move to lie across my bed. “That’s me, the mysterious Tubbo”.  
  
“Well, mysterious Tubbo. I was thinking about our assignment. Maybe we could go out for breakfast before class to discuss it further? First class starts at eleven so we’ll have plenty of time.”  
  
“Sure. Where do you want to meet and what time?”  
  
“Leave the place to me. I can pick you up around nine?”  
  
“Great.”  
  
It’s well past midnight by the time we both say goodnight. As I plug in my nearly dead phone to charge, I realize that I can’t fight the smile on my face.  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Leave a like and subscribe if you enjoyed this second chapter. More to come soon.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi readers. I hope to please you with this new update. 
> 
> I want to thank the following users for leaving a comment on chapter 2: Your_Little_Pogchamp, noone_really, RandomCrazyLesbian, Kieran, istilldontexist (iamperson) & MythicalRingPop.  
> Also many thanks to all that left Kudos. 
> 
> Click subscribe if you enjoy the story. The next update will arrive soon.

I open my eyes with a groan. I stare up at my ceiling for a few unseeing minutes before rolling over for my phone. Scrolling through social media before I do anything else is part of my morning routine.  
  
The first thing I notice is a text message from Tommy.  
  
_Morning. I’ll be there around 8:45._  
  
I can’t even be bothered by the fact that I’ll have to hurry because he’s coming a bit earlier. My whole body is filled with positive energy by knowing that I’m going to meet up with him again. In the back of my mind, I know this ‘friendship’ will only last until the assignment is finished, but I need this right now. Only if it lasts for a few days.  
  
With only forty minutes to go until Tommy’s arrival, I scamper from my bed, race across the hall to the bathroom, and find it empty and waiting for me. Lani starts school early on Thursdays so by the time I get up, she already left. Twenty minutes later I saunter from the room, leaving a cloud of steam in my wake.  
  
I pull on my school uniform and collect my school bag and phone before heading downstairs. There are just ten minutes left before Tommy arrives.  
  
“Morning,” I say as I whiz into the kitchen. Dad is seated at the island, finishing off his breakfast before work. Dad works in IT and works in shifts that change weekly. This week he runs late shifts, so he leaves the house around nine.   
  
“What’s with the smile?” Dad asks as he sips his coffee—black with no sugar. I often wonder who hurt him so much that he needs to torture himself by drinking such bitter sludge.  
  
“Do I need a reason for smiling?” I say as I walk to the cabinet that holds the cups and saucers. I open it and grab the cup that has a smiley face printed on it with the line ‘Em-tea’ written beneath it. I take the teapot from the counter and pour myself a cup of Earl Grey.  
  
“Who are you and what have you done with my son?” Dad asks. “And why are you up so early? I thought you started past 11 on Thursdays?”  
  
“Actually, a friend is coming to pick me up.” I take a seat next to Dad. “We’re getting some breakfast before heading to school.”  
  
“Really?” he asks.   
  
“Yes,” I say. “I have friends, you know.” I take a sip from my cup and make a face at the over-steeped tea. Maybe some milk can alleviate some of the bitter taste but I can’t be bothered.  
  
“So does this mean you don’t want some delicious beans on toast?” Dad says as he gets up from the island and takes his dishes to the sink. “I made it myself.”  
  
My stomach turns at the thought of it – beans on toast shares last place with porridge on my list of favorite breakfasts. “Sounds lovely, but no thanks.”  
  
“So who is this friend? Do I know him?”  
  
My phone buzzes with a text from Tommy.  
  
_I’m here._  
  
“Sorry, have to go, Dad. Bye.” I make my exit before he can grill me further.  
  
Even though I knew he’d be there, I’m surprised at the sight of Tommy waiting for me on his scooter. It’s a beautiful red Vespa. I take a calming breath as I walk toward him. “Morning.”  
  
“Morning,” he says. He gets off the scooter and lifts up the seat. He retrieves a helmet from the storage and gives it to me, before closing the seat and getting back on the scooter.  
  
“Thanks,” I say as I put on the helmet. I pull the chin strap to secure it.  
  
“We wouldn’t want that egghead of yours to crack, right?” he says. I want to give a witty reply but my mind is blank. My confidence from last night is nothing more than a memory, because now he is actually here. He watches me as I climb on the back and try to settle myself. His face is just a breath away from mine. “You ready to go?”  
  
“Ready,” I say, putting my hands on his shoulders.  
  
“Is this the first time you’re riding on the back of a scooter?” he asks as he starts the scooter.  
  
“Yes?”  
  
“I can tell.” He turns around and I suppress the urge to distance my head from his. It’s like my whole body turns into a thermal heater whenever he’s close. “You can either hold the grip at the back of the scooter or you can hold on to me. He grabs my hands as if to demonstrate and puts them around his waist. “Like this.”  
  
I don’t know what to say so I nod and keep my hands where they are, which is around Tommy Simons’ waist. If I was feeling hot before, I’m definitely steaming right now.  
  
“Okay. Here we go.” Tommy drives off and I try to relax. We don’t drive for very long, and soon we’re stopping before a café called Fox Café. I recognize this place from Tommy’s Instagram—I wasn’t stalking, I swear. That’s my story and I’m sticking to it.  
  
I climb from the scooter as Tommy parks it and puts a chain lock around the front wheel. I follow him inside the café and wait as Tommy offers greetings to those he sees. Everyone seems to know him on sight, too.  
  
“You know everyone?” I ask.  
  
Tommy shrugs. “I’ve been coming here since I was young. The place used to be owned by my grandparents, but my dad sold it a few years back.”  
  
Tommy’s tone doesn’t sound all that happy when he says that. He sighs before continuing. “Eating breakfast here was my family’s routine. Now it’s just mine.”  
  
He shrugs again and walks between the booths. We take one near the window. I’ve driven past the café before, but I’ve never been inside. Aside from the booths, there’s a long counter area where those who have come alone can sit. The kitchen is open and active. A trendy chalkboard hangs from the wall with specials written on it.  
  
Tommy stretches and yawns. “You kept me up too late last night.”

I find myself yawning too. “It takes two to tango.”

“I almost missed my morning workout because I overslept.” Tommy runs a hand through his damp hair.  
  
Tommy grabs the menu. “Their bacon and eggs are the best.”  
  
“Is that what you’re having?”  
  
“Yeah.”  
  
“Cool, I’ll have the same then.” My stomach growls in anticipation.  
  
The server comes – an older-looking woman wearing a pink apron.  
  
“Morning, Alicia,” Tommy says cheerfully to the woman.  
  
“You doing well, love?” Alicia asks, and Tommy nods. She offers me a kind smile. “What will it be?”  
  
I watch Tommy as he orders for both of us.   
  
“Excellent.” Alicia scribbles something down on her pad before she turns to me. “How would you like your eggs?”  
  
“Sunny side up, please,” I say.  
  
“Same for you, dear?” she asks Tommy.  
  
He nods. “And can I get an orange juice, please?”  
  
He turns to me. “What about you?”  
  
“Just a water for me, thanks.”  
  
Alicia nods. “I’ll be right back.”  
  
When Alicia is gone, Tommy pulls out a folded piece of paper. He pushes it toward me.  
  
“What’s this? A love letter?”  
  
“You like that sort of thing, huh?” Tommy asks. He wiggles his eyebrows.  
  
“No,” I say too quickly. Redness paints my cheeks. “I don’t know…” I shrug. “I never got one before.”  
  
“Have you ever had a girlfriend?”  
  
“Not exactly.” His piercing eyes beckon me to elaborate. “There was this girl, Kate. I met her on a trip to London. We dated for a few days.” I take the salt shaker from the table and play with it for a bit. Talking about myself is uncomfortable. “And what about you?”  
  
“I’ve dated girls before.” Tommy looks down. “Many, actually.” I expect a lot more bravado coming from him when he tells me all about his conquests, but instead, he stays timid. The fact that he dated a lot of girls doesn’t come as a surprise. Someone as popular as Tommy is bound to have flocks of girls coming after him. The many photos on his Instagram where he poses with a different girl in every picture prove it.  
  
“I haven’t been interested in a while, though,” Tommy says after a moment of silence.   
  
“In what, dating or girls?” I say it as a joke. He doesn’t laugh. There is an expression on his face that I can’t decipher. He opens his mouth as if to say something and then closes it. Before either of us can say anything else, the food comes.  
  
While we eat, I open the piece of paper and find a hastily scribbled list. Of all the things that Tommy is good at, writing is not one of them. His handwriting is practically indecipherable. It’s a good thing we live in the digital age.  
  
“It’s a list of adaptations,” he explains. “I know we decided to do Romeo and Juliet yesterday, but I wanted us to have options. Do you want to perform something so romantic?”  
  
“I guess I haven’t really thought about that. What do you think?” I take a bite from the toast. The salty and savory flavor from the bacon combined with the smoothness of the eggs is heavenly. I never want to go back to the stuff Dad feeds me in the mornings. Just give me this for all eternity and I’ll die a happy man.  
  
“Good, huh?” he says. “And I am fine with it. I mean, I haven’t actually seen the movie. I never really watch romantic movies.”  
  
“Why?” I take another bite. I try to stop myself from eating too fast because I don’t want this breakfast date to end, but it’s hard. Maybe next time I’ll have to take something less delicious. Well, if there is a next time  
  
“Does there need to be a reason for me not to like a specific genre?”  
  
“Generally, yes.”  
  
“Well, let’s see then. For starters, they’re stupid and cheesy. Also, the storyline is always the same. The main characters dislike each other upon their first encounter. They get to know each other better and start to appreciate each other and develop romantic feelings. Then they let each other go thinking what happened was a mistake and it all ends with them making up and having a happily ever after.”  
  
“What about you?” he says. “Tell me something you hate. Give me your top three.”  
  
I smile. “Okay, let’s start with math.”  
  
“Join the club.” Tommy holds up his hand. “Come on, Tubbo. Don’t leave me hanging.”  
  
I stare at his upheld hand for a heartbeat longer before bringing my own to smack it in a high five.  
  
He grins. “What else?”  
  
“Um, most vegetables,” I say. “I only like peas and tomatoes, really. ”  
  
He laughs. “Aren’t you meant to, like, outgrow your hatred for vegetables when you turn, like, three?”  
  
“I must've missed the memo.”  
  
“And what’s the final thing?” He’s been counting on his fingers, two of them are standing.  
  
“Deciding stuff,” I say. “I’m probably the most indecisive person you will ever meet. So I spend a lot of time daydreaming about stuff instead of actually doing it. I always worry about what everyone will think.”  
  
“So, is deciding what to perform a nightmare for you?”  
  
“More or less,” I say. “But I’m happy to go with Romeo and Juliet.”  
  
“Works for me.”

“So if we do this, who’s Romeo and who’s Juliet?” I ask.  
  
“Well, you can be Juliet, and I can be Romeo.” He pauses, raises an eyebrow, and looks at me. “Or vice versa, whichever you prefer.” He winks.  
  
I choke on my eggs while trying not to laugh. “Nice one.”  
  
Tommy laughs, too. He pushes my glass of water closer to me. I grab it and our fingertips brush. In my haste to pull my hand away, I end up spilling some of the water.  
  
“Shit,” I say as I use napkins to wipe up the mess. Tommy helps. There’s laughter in his eyes, and the right side of his mouth is pulled up.  
  
“So, have we decided on the movie?”  
  
“I think so?” I say as I put the last piece of toast in my mouth.  
  
Tommy laughs. “Well, in that case, we should get together and watch the movie so we can pick a scene? Maybe one between the supporting cast? Just because it’s Romeo and Juliet doesn’t actually mean we have to be Romeo and Juliet.”

“Okay.” I smile, relieved. “I like the way you think.”

“Well, I have some stuff to do tonight. So what about tomorrow night? A Friday is perfect for movie night, don’t you think? And this time, we’ll go to my house?”

“Sure, it’s a date.” I feel my cheeks reddening as I say it. “Or, you know what I mean.”  
  
Tommy looks at me intensely. I feel like he wants to say something, but he just takes another sip of his drink, letting me cringe at my own awkwardness for another five full seconds. Finally, he says, “Are you done?”

I nod.  
  
“We should leave now so we’re not late.”  
  
“Sure.” We walk over to the counter to pay.  
  
“I’ve got it.” Before he can object, I open my wallet and hand over the amount due. It’s the least I can do for thanking him for his company.   
  
“Fine,” he says. “Tomorrow’s on me, though.”  
  
And just like that, getting breakfast together becomes a thing that we will do.  
  
If the me of last week – without any real mates and a total introvert – could see the me of right now, he would never believe that any of this is happening. Hell, even the me of right now can’t believe it.  
  
We leave Fox Café and head for school—together.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To all users who left a comment on the previous chapter: thank you! 
> 
> I expect there will be three more chapters after this one. If you haven't already, subscribe so you don't miss any updates.

After the final bell, I meet Tommy at the bike rack. Even though there are other students around, I don’t feel any of the anxiety I expected to feel. It’s only three days since we started hanging out, so it surprises me how comfortable I’m starting to become around him.  
  
We both put on our helmet. He starts his scooter and we drive away.   
  
Soon we arrive at Tommy’s house. He lives in the richer part of town. His house has two stories, like mine, but so much bigger. Truthfully, villa is a more apt description for it. It’s got sand-colored walls and white finishes. The windows are large and clean with white shutters. Tommy’s house looks like it belongs somewhere more interesting than Nottingham.  
  
“Enjoying the view, Tubbo?” Tommy asks. It seems that we’ve been standing there for a while already and he’s been staring at me for I don’t know how long.  
  
I blush, and he smiles.  
  
“Uh, sorry.” I step off the scooter. I loosen the strap around my chin before taking off my helmet.   
  
I follow Tommy as he walks toward the house. Silence greets us when he opens the front door. We enter and pause in the hallway. He seems unsure for a moment, looking at his shoes, the house, and then me.  
  
“My mom kind of has a no-shoe policy in the house.” I smile as I hook my right shoe behind my left and pull it off. I do the same to the other one.  
  
“My parents are like that, too,” I say.  
  
Tommy leads me through the house.  
  
“Wow. This is amazing.” It’s like the living room was ripped from the pages of a magazine. There’s an expensive-looking marble floor and the ceiling must be almost three meters high—a big difference compared to my house. It gives a spacious feel to the interior.   
  
“My mom runs her own interior decorating firm,” Tommy explains. I know this already. There was a profile about her in one of my mom’s magazines once. She’s a designer to the stars. And by judging by the space around me, it’s clear that she’s very good at what she does. It is both showstopping and homey.  
  
Tommy leads me toward the kitchen, which is large with white cupboards and white granite countertops. It’s filled with state-of-the-art appliances. There’s no doubt that this kitchen would be a chef’s dream. Tommy walks over to the large double-door fridge and pulls it open.  
  
“Do you want anything to drink?” Tommy asks. “We have water, juice and soda.”  
  
“Water is fine.” I’m standing at the counter, leaning my hip against the edge.  
  
Tommy takes two bottles of water from the fridge. He places his down on the counter and holds out mine.  
  
“Thanks,” I say as I take it. Our eyes meet. I know we’re nothing but schoolmates but that doesn’t stop my heart from racing as he looks at me. Wanting something to do, I open the bottle and end up drinking too fast. I choke, and Tommy moves to pat my back.  
  
“Don’t die on me, Tubbo,” he says. “You still need to help me with the assignment first.”  
  
I pretend to be offended and give him a swat on his arm. “Cheeky bastard.” He takes the cap of his own water bottle and takes a sip before putting the cap back on. “We should head up to my room.” The words take a second to register. Eyes wide, he hurriedly adds, “To work, I mean.”  
  
It seems to me that Tommy’s just as nervous as I am. With a start, I realize that it’s the first time I’ve seen it. He’s looking everywhere but me. And I can’t help but wonder why…Tommy’s straight, right? He shouldn’t be as bothered by me as I am by him.  
  
Tommy laughs and seems to come back to himself, back to being the self-assured lad that I’ve come to know. Maybe my doubting him is nothing more than wishful thinking.  
  
“Lead the way,” I say.  
  
We leave the kitchen, and I follow Tommy up the flight of stairs to his bedroom.  
  
“Uh, sorry about the mess,” Tommy says.  
  
“What mess?” I look around. Almost everything is in its place, save for one hoodie on the floor. The walls of Tommy’s room are covered in pictures. I notice camera equipment sprawled across his desk. There’s a camera, a tripod and a microphone.   
  
Tommy moves to stand beside me and picks up his laptop. “Shall we do it?”  
  
“Do…it?” I quirk my eyebrow in flirtation.  
  
“You know it, bitch.” Tommy laughs. “I mean watch the movie.”  
  
“Sure.” My eyes snag on a box on his desk. It’s an iPhone 12 Pro. “Holy shit, you have one?”  
  
“My dad thinks he can buy me back,” Tommy says. His voice gets colder as he speaks about his father. “My dad is trying to see me for the first time in over a year. He offered to take me out for dinner yesterday after school. And like a fool I believed him. I waited around for nothing.” Tommy stops himself. His eyes widen as he looks at me. “You’re easy to talk to. I haven’t even told any of my friends about that.”  
  
“Well, I’m always willing to listen if you ever need that.” I meet his gaze. “ Even after the English assignment is over.”  
  
The inevitable end to our time together flashes before my eyes. I need to remember that this will all be over soon. Popular guys like Tommy don’t go well together with someone like me.   
  
We’re staring at each other.  
  
“Same,” Tommy says.  
  
He clears his throat and looks away first. He moves over to his bed. It doesn’t take long for Tommy to find the movie online. He grabs his laptop and places it on the floor. I take a seat with my back against his bed.  
  
“I’ll be right back,” he says.  
  
“Okay.”  
  
Tommy returns with his arms filled with chips, candy and popcorn.  
  
“Wow, that’s a lot.”  
  
Tommy smiles. “I wasn’t sure what you liked, so I brought a bit of everything.”  
  
“Do you treat all your guests this well?”  
  
He places the snacks down. “Actually, I rarely bring anyone home. You’re one of the few people I’ve invited here.”  
  
“Well, it’s just for school.”  
  
“Right.” It’s one word that I know I will spend countless hours trying to decipher.  
  
He grabs a handful of popcorn and throws it into his mouth before sitting down next to me with his legs crossed. His leg taps into me and I try to ignore the warmth of it. He presses play and the movie starts.  
  
“I think we should do this scene between Benvolio and Romeo,” Tommy says.  
  
I watch the scene and nod. It’s short and has just enough lines for me to be able to manage.  
  
“I’ll hunt for the script and send it over to you tonight,” Tommy says. He presses pause and heads over to his desk. “What’s your email address?”  
  
I give him my address and he writes it down on a piece of paper before sitting down again. He’s sitting closer than before. To distract myself, I point to the screen and ask, “Who do you want to be?”  
  
“Maybe Benvolio? He has more lines. And Romeo in this scene can be seen as quiet and shy, which might make you more comfortable.”

I nod.  
  
As we watch more of the movie, my attention is split. I’m aware of every move that Tommy makes next to me. He adjusts his position, and I hold my breath as more of his leg touches mine. Tommy’s not looking at me, though. He’s still watching the movie. My heart hammers in my chest. When Romeo and Juliet are in the pool and are about to kiss, I reach for the popcorn. Tommy does the same, and our hands end up brushing. I stop breathing. A smile dances at his lips as he eats a handful of popcorn.  
  
I watch him chew, my eyes never leaving his lips. I turn my attention back to the movie. I force myself not to look anywhere but at the screen.  
  
I’m finally focused on the movie when I feel a sudden weight on my shoulder. Startled, I turn to find Tommy’s head there. His eyes are closed and he’s snoring slightly. I watch the rise and fall of his chest.  
  
He nuzzles closer to me, his head finding the perfect spot to rest. While he sleeps, Tommy’s oblivious to the effect that he’s having on me.  
  
I watch the rest of the movie trying to stay still with Tommy tucked against me. When the credits start to play, I study his face. I bring my hand up but pause. I let it hover there.  
  
Maybe in another life I’d be brave enough to do it. Tommy looks so peaceful, which is the exact opposite of how I’m feeling right now.  
  
Watching him sleep, I’m grateful that I have a couple more days with him. Tommy’s eyes open. We stare at each other. My panic multiplies. I jerk my hand back, but Tommy reaches out to catch it. Our eyes haven’t left each other. His swirl with questions.  
  
I’m about to apologize when someone enters the room.  
  
“Hey, Tom—” a female voice starts, but tapers out at the sight of us. Tommy and I turn to find who I assume is Tommy’s sister standing there. Her eyes are wide as she studies us.  
  
Tommy hurriedly lets go of my hand and stands up. “Uh, Kate, I didn’t know you’d be home so early.”  
  
“Early?” Kate says. “It’s almost half past six. Anyways, who’s your friend?”  
  
Tommy looks at the clock and realizes he dozed off for a while. Then he looks at me. It’s the most embarrassed I’ve ever seen him. I’m pretty sure he’s blushing as much as I am. “This is Tubbo. I mean Toby.”  
  
Kate smiles and offers me her hand. “Nice to meet you.” Unlike Tommy, Kate has dark brown and green eyes. Her eyes are just as intense as his.  
  
I stand up, take her hand and shake it. I look from her to Tommy and then back at her. “It’s nice to meet you, too.”  
  
It's clear from Kate’s face that she’s enjoying this. “So what were you guys doing?”  
  
“Watching a movie,” Tommy says.  
  
“For school,” I add.  
  
Kate quirks her eyebrow. “Interesting”.   
  
“Not really,” Tommy says. “And actually, I was about to bring Toby home. So if you don’t mind, we’ll be going now.”  
  
Before Kate gets a chance to protest, Tommy grabs my hand and rushes us out of the room.  
  
“Bye, Toby,” Kate calls after me.  
  
I look back while Tommy drags me down the stairs. She’s still smiling. I wave her goodbye.  
  
We stop in the hallway to put on our shoes. I look down at our hands, still interlocked. He notices it, too, and quickly releases my hand. I would be lying if I said I wasn’t a little bit disappointed. “Sorry about that,” he says. “Kate can be such a busybody.”  
  
“It’s okay,” I say. I bend to pull my shoes on, and Tommy does the same.   
  
I bend to pull them on, and Tommy does the same. I have a habit of not untying my shoes. The left foot goes in with ease, but the right one puts up a fight. I stumble and Tommy reaches out to catch me. I’m the first to react. I clear my throat and create space between us.  
  
“Thanks,” I say awkwardly. Tommy smiles and opens the door. He waits for me to exit the house.  
  
He drives me home. We don’t speak on the way over.  
  
When we arrive at my house, I get off the scooter. We stare at each other and I’m not sure what it is that I’m feeling. Confusion is the best description I can think of. Today was weird.  
  
“Things are okay between us, right?” I ask.  
  
“Of course,” Tommy says. He turns off his scooter. “Why would you ask that?”  
  
I still, and suddenly I have this overwhelming urge to share my secret with him. Honestly, I’m tired of holding this secret so close to my chest. It’s like a ticking time bomb waiting to go off. And right now I want to watch the clock run out. See what happens.  
  
“I’m gay.”  
  
There really isn’t any going back now. Oddly, I don’t feel the sheer panic that I thought I would whenever I imaged this happening. Maybe I’m numb, and this is me preparing for the judgment that’s coming.  
  
I don’t have to look at Tommy to know all his attention is on me. I look up and our eyes meet. I wait for him to turn gay into an accusation—an insult. I wait for him to stop seeing me as Toby and to see me just as gay. I wait for all this while reminding myself that being gay is never a choice. If it were, why would so many of us choose to be shunned and spoken about behind our backs? The answer is simple: it isn’t a choice.  
  
It's all so unfair: because you’re so-called different, you need to stand up and say that you’re so-called different. What makes everyone else normal? Who gets to decide that?

Whoever it is can bite my ass.  
  
When he opens his mouth to reply, the front door opens. I look back and see Dad walking out.   
  
"Toby," Dad says. "There you are. We were getting worried. You haven't sent us any message about being later."  
  
"Sorry," I say. It's all I can bring up-my mind is tired. I'm angry at Dad for ruining my moment. I'm mad at myself for choosing this moment to tell my biggest secret. And I'm angry at Tommy for not reacting faster.   
  
"Is this your friend?" Dad says.   
  
I turn to Tommy but I don't meet his gaze. "That's Tommy. Tommy, this is my dad."  
  
They greet each other and before any other questions can be asked, Tommy's phone rings. He picks up. I can't hear what he's saying. My brain is busy replaying the scene from moments ago in my head, over and over.   
  
After Tommy hangs up, he says he has to go home. "Toby?" I look at him. I can't read the emotion on his face. The tears in my eyes make my sight blurry, but I manage to fight them back. "We'll talk more, later. Okay?"  
  
I'm not able to produce any words. If I say another word, I'll cry. So I nod.  
  
"Good," Tommy says. He turns to my father. "It was nice to meet you, Mr. Smith." He starts his scooter again and drives off, leaving me feeling embarrassed and sad.  
  
Without looking at my father, I turn around and walk inside the house. I go straight to my room. Finally safe, I let it all out. I cry and I cry. I ignore my parents knocking on the door. I skip dinner. I don't want to come down again. And I don’t want another day to break. All I want is to sleep. For everyone to leave me alone. 


	5. Chapter 5

There are three knocks on my door. I sigh and close my eyes. Everyone in the house has been knocking on my door since I got home on Friday, asking, ‘Are you okay, Toby?’ or ‘Do you want to talk about it, Toby?’. Why can’t they understand that I just want to be left alone and pity myself for the rest of the weekend?  
  
Five seconds later, three more knocks follow, now accompanied by Dad’s voice. “Toby?”  
  
I sigh again, louder this time. “Go away,” I say. “I don’t want to talk and yes I’m okay.”  
  
“Tommy’s here for you,” Dad says. My heart skips a beat at the mention of the person I’m most eager to see and at the same time am most reluctant to see. I know he wants to talk to me. He sent over a dozen messages to my phone on Friday and a dozen more yesterday, and that’s not even counting the missed calls.  
  
“Did you hear me, Toby?” Dad says as he opens the door slightly.  
  
My first instinct is to scream, ‘Yes! Send him in!’, but I constrain myself. Not even Tommy will persuade me. I imagine a much stronger and tougher version of myself standing in front of me – let’s call him sergeant Tubbo – ordering me to stand my rebellious ground.  
  
“I don’t care.” I turn to my side, facing away from the door. “Leave me alone.”  
  
I hear my father mumbling something before I hear Tommy’s voice. “Mr. Smith,” he says. The sound of his voice almost melts my defenses. But even if I did want to see him, I’d never let him see me in my current condition. Unshowered, ungroomed and red, puffy eyes. “Can I get a moment alone with Toby?”  
  
My heart starts to beat faster at the idea of being left alone with Tommy. _Come on Dad, tell him no._  
  
“Uh…well,” Dad says.  
  
 _No, no, no, no, no, no._  
  
“Sure,” Dad agrees. I rub my eyes in agitation as I hear the traitor walk downstairs.

I hear the door of my bedroom open wider, before it’s closed entirely. I can feel Tommy’s presence in my room. There is no escape now.   
  
“So…you haven’t answered my calls,” Tommy says.  
  
I think about my choices for a second. I could ignore him until he goes away, but that would only delay the inevitable. Tomorrow I’d face him in school. I can hardly call in sick for the rest of the year. The only way to avoid him forever is to change schools, but I won’t do that. Not again. So I take a deep breath and say, “I was busy.”  
  
“So I see.” I feel his weight pressing down into the mattress as he sits on the bed. “If you would’ve picked up, I would’ve told you that I wanted to apologize for leaving. You shared something very personal with me and I should’ve stayed.”  
  
I swallow. “It’s—"  
  
“No, wait,” Tommy says. “Let me finish. When I got home, I realized what a ponce I was for leaving the way I did. And for that, I’m sorry, Toby. I just didn’t know what to do when you told me your secret and then your dad came out and…I guess I freaked out for a moment. I’m sorry for being so selfish.”  
  
I turn my head toward Tommy. He’s dressed in all black today – black skinny jeans and a black turtleneck. There are bags under his eyes and I want to believe that it’s because he actually felt bad about Friday evening. I sit up on one arm and meet his gaze. The look in his eye is intense like it always is, demanding my attention. “It’s not like we could talk while my father was standing there.”  
  
Tommy shakes his head. “I could have waited. I promise I won’t walk away again, Toby.”  
  
“I believe you.”  
  
A few seconds of silence pass. The only audible sounds in the room are our breaths and the ticking of my bedside clock. We both know it’s time to talk about ‘the thing’.  
  
“So, you’re gay?” he asks. It’s more of a statement than a question. I don’t mind to answer it, because Toby Smith _is_ gay. Why should I deny it? I am who I am.  
  
“Yes,” I say.   
  
“Cool,” he says.  
  
That one word has me sagging in relief. I know Tommy’s one of the few exceptions of being a popular kid yet not being mean. Still, I had my doubts about his acceptance of me being gay. I will always have doubts after what happened with my ex-best friend. I thought I knew him, but that incident showed me you can never really be sure.  
  
“You’re the first person I told after I transferred to Trent Academy,” I say.   
  
“Really? Wow. I’m strangely honored,” he says. “And that’s right, I almost forgot you only joined us this year. Did you leave because of…this?”  
  
“One of the reasons, yes.” I pull my fingers through my hair and shake my head. It’s weird talking about my biggest secret with Tommy, someone that I’ve only really known for a few days. But why does it feel like I know him so much longer?  
  
“What is it?” Tommy asks.  
  
“Nothing. It’s just…weird.” In my best aged-theater-actor voice, I say, “Revealing one’s soul should come with more grandeur, shouldn’t it?”  
  
A smile tugs at Tommy’s lips. “I don’t know about that, but I do know it’s brave.” He moves closer to me. “What made you do it?”  
  
“Would you believe me if I said I don’t actually know? It was spur-of-the-moment. And then when you left, I felt so stupid for sharing my secret just like that.”  
  
His gaze intensifies and before I realize what’s happening, Tommy leans in for a hug. I tense for a second and then I relax. I lay my head on his shoulder and breathe in that sweet and woody smell of his. For some people, the smell of lavender works relaxing and reduces anxiety. For me, Tommy’s smell has that effect. My body tingles inside and I feel peaceful. I feel accepted.   
  
We hug until I feel it becomes awkward. Now that he knows I’m gay, I don’t want to give him the wrong impression – that I like him. Even though that impression would be the truth, but that’s my burden to bear. I’m the first one to break away. His face is still close to mine and I can feel his breath on my skin.  
  
“You can’t tell anyone,” I say.  
  
“I won’t,” Tommy says. The look in his eyes makes me feel like he won’t. “You’ll come out when you’re ready. This will be our secret.”  
  
“’This’?” Somehow it sounds like he’s talking about more than just right now.  
  
Before I can think too much about it, he says, “Have you ever had a thing with a boy?”  
  
“No,” I say. “It’s hard finding someone if you’re not out of the closet yet. I can’t go on any dating apps in case someone might recognize me.” To be honest, I _have_ installed multiple dating apps and looked at all the profiles. I guess that makes me a lurker, but I have a valid excuse.   
  
Tommy nods and squints his eyes. He taps his chin with his finger a couple of times before he lifts it in the air like he has some amazing idea. “What if I take you on a date?”  
  
I laugh. “You?”  
  
“For practice, of course,” Tommy says in this innocent way. “So when you do meet someone, you know what to do.”  
  
“Why wouldn’t I know what to do?” I say.  
  
“Because you’re an awkward bitch,” he says.  
  
I laugh again. “Shut up.”  
  
He laughs too. “So what about it?”  
  
“You’re serious about this?” I say.  
  
“Yes,” he says. He’s no longer laughing now, his face serious. “Let me take you on a date. I insist.”  
  
I shake my head. “You’re so weird.” My heart is bouncing like crazy – a date with Tommy! I have to say yes of course. But my head says something else, that I should take it for what it is: one of Tommy’s silly jokes. On the other hand, even if it isn't a real date, it's still time spent with Tommy. Besides, I have nothing to lose. “Okay," I say. "And where will you be taking me?”  
  
He smiles. “It's a surprise,” he says. “I’ll take you somewhere after school tomorrow. See it as a way to celebrate after we finish the English assignment.”  
  
A pang of anxiety hits me as he mentions the assignment, but it’s overruled by the alarm going off in my head, blaring ‘DATE WITH TOMMY, DATE WITH TOMMY, DATE WITH TOMMY’. And okay, I know it’s not a real date, but I can’t stop my heart from feeling like it is. I smile as I see Tommy’s mischievous look on his face. He's observing me like I'm so special. This boy will be the death of me.  
  
*  
  
My legs won’t stop shaking. They move up and down without my having any say in the matter. Tommy and I are seated in the back row of the auditorium. We’re waiting for Mr. Evans to call us to perform. Right now, Eric is onstage, but I’m too nervous to care.  
  
Tommy places his hand on my knee and I stop moving. He grips it tightly. “It’s going to be okay,” he says. “Just look at me, only me, and trust me.”  
  
I exhale a nervous breath. We’re one of the last groups waiting to perform. “I don’t think anyone’s going to believe our performance.”  
  
“Why?”  
  
“I’m Romeo and you’re Benvolio.” I turn to look at him. “How does that make any sense?”  
  
“What do you mean?” Tommy asks.  
  
I snort. “Because you’re the leading man in almost every sense of the word, and I’m just a supporting character.”  
  
Tommy leans in, closing the distance between us. His next words are just for me, just for my heart. “Don’t ever say that again,” he says. “You’re every bit as much the leading man as anyone else. Never forget that, and remember that I like you just the way you are.”  
  
Before I can say anything or even react, Mr. Evans calls for us. “Tommy and Toby, you’re next,” he says.  
  
But how can I go anywhere when Tommy Simons just said he likes me? How does moving from this spot makes any sense? I should live here now, never moving, never budging. Please forward all mail to this address.  
  
Tommy grabs my hand and pulls me to my feet. He lets go and makes his way toward the stage. I follow, my stomach twisting. We take our places on the stage. I blink and everyone in the class comes back into focus. Those who have already performed occupy the first two rows of seats. Mr. Evans sits at the center.  
  
“What have you chosen to perform?” Mr. Evans says.  
  
“We selected a scene from Romeo and Juliet,” Tommy answers.  
  
“Wonderful,” Mr. Evans says. “I can’t wait to see your interpretation. Who will you be performing as?”

“I’ll be Benvolio,” Tommy says. “And Toby will be Romeo.”

“Very interesting choices,” Mr. Evans says. “I look forward to being dazzled.”  
  
I don’t know about being dazzling, but I’m going to try my best. Tommy and I did a run-through yesterday before he went home. And then this morning at Fox Café, we worked through the scene again. I know that I am as prepared as I can possibly be.  
  
“We can do this,” Tommy mouths. I nod.  
  
“Whenever you’re ready,” Mr. Evans says. He motions the group to silence some of the whisperings around him.  
  
I’m so nervous that I’m numb. I try to ignore my racing heart and quickly reddening face and as much as I can. Tommy delivers his first line. And I react like I’ve practiced. I turn to look at Tommy and find that he’s looking at me. No, it’s Benvolio looking at Romeo.  
  
Everything fades away. I imagine that we’re performing with no one watching. Tommy embodies the character of Benvolio. At first I’m stilted as Romeo, but soon I get carried away on the wave of Tommy’s performance. The scene unfolds in a blur, and I’m sure that later I won’t be able to remember any of it. Not the words I mess up, or the awkward way I move across the stage.  
  
At the end, Tommy takes my hand in his hand and we both bow. He squeezes my hand once more before letting it go and we stand up straight to await our critique.  
  
“Tommy, please, I beg you to try out for the next production. Your talent should be shared with a wider audience. What I truly loved about your performance is your confidence. You weren’t afraid to go for it, which is a must as an actor.”  
  
Mr. Evans looks down at his notes briefly before turning his attention to me. “Toby, this is probably the best you’ve performed in this class. You and Tommy work well together. The chemistry between your two characters felt real. I believed them, and that’s what I want to see as an audience member.”  
  
The rest of the class claps politely as we leave the stage to take our seats.  
  
“You did great,” Tommy says. He smiles and all I can offer him in return is a sigh of relief. It’s over. Finally. My knees feel weak, and my face is hot to the touch. For the rest of the period, I try to fan my blush away. The worst part of the day is over. Now it’s time for the best part – our date.  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the kudos & comments, my lovely readers. One more chapter to go.


	6. Chapter 6

By the time I get home, my cheeks hurt from smiling. Tommy and I are going on an actual date tonight and I still can’t believe where he’s taking me. I would’ve been satisfied if he’d take me to the movies or something like that, but no, he had to outdo himself and make me like him even more.  
  
“Oh, you’re back,” Mom says as she heads toward the family room. Her eyes are droopy as if she hasn’t slept well. I trail in after her to find the rest of my family sprawled in front of the television.  
  
“Yeah,” I say. “But why is everyone else here so early?”  
  
“We got called to Lani’s school.”  
  
“Again?” I look at my sister. She’s lying on the carpet, a sketch pad open before her. “What did you do this time?”  
  
“Nothing, really,” Lani says. “Maria, you know her right? Well, she said something stupid about make-up. So I kindly made her aware that I don’t appreciate rude comments like that. That’s all. I don’t get the big fuss.”  
  
Mom just squints her eyes. “And with kindly, your sister means hitting her in the face and calling her a—”  
  
“Okay!” Lani says. “Can we not keep repeating the story? I think we’ve established that there are better ways to make my point in the future.”  
  
Mom looks at Dad for back-up, but his eyes are glued to the television. He takes a sip of his beer, which basically translates to ‘don’t involve me, woman’. Mom sighs. “You know what? I actually agree. Let’s not discuss it again. I’ve had enough drama for the day.” She sits down on the couch next to Dad. “So how was your day, Toby?”  
  
“It was fine. There wasn’t anything—” I pause when I see Lani staring at me. I look from left to right. “Uh, is there something on my face?”  
  
“Yes, a smile,” Lani says, now also looking at me. “Why are you so happy?”  
  
Note to self – put some effort into controlling my facial expressions. “I’m going out tonight. A friend asked me to go see the Iron Manacles at the Royal Concert Hall.” Somehow, Tommy figured out they’re one of my favorite rock bands. I certainly can’t remember ever telling him.  
  
“Ohhh, a ‘friend’,” Lani says.  
  
“Is this friend a girl?” Mom asks. She’s flipping through the channels, but she can’t disguise the interest in her tone. I watch as she settles on the Food Network. Someone needs to change it before Mom gets inspired again.  
  
“I’m going with Tommy,” I say.  
  
“It’s truly hard to believe that Toby is friends with Tommy Simons,” Lani says. “The world we know it is upside down.”  
  
“Is he popular?” Dad asks.  
  
“Very,” Lani says. “He’s the ‘it’ boy of Trent College.”  
  
“Then, what’s he doing with Toby?” Mom asks.  
  
“Hey!” I say. “I have my charms.”  
  
“That may be true, dear, but you’re also incredibly awkward,” Mom says. Her words are matter-of-fact.  
  
“So awkward,” Dad chimes in.  
  
“It’s embarrassing just how awkward,” Lani chimes in.  
  
“Well, there goes my self-esteem,” I mutter. “Thank you very much.”  
  
“Also, don’t you have school tomorrow?” Dad asks.  
  
“I don’t start until 11,” I say. “And the concert starts at seven and lasts until eight-thirty. It’s only a fifteen minutes drive so I’ll be home at a decent time. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to get dressed into something more appropriate.”  
  
I hurry out of the living room before the interrogation can continue. It’s my own fault, God knows I shouldn’t smile when I get back from school. No normal teenager does that.  
  
I go up the stairs and into my bedroom. It’s only an hour before Tommy picks me up and I still have to choose an outfit. I’ve never been to a rock concert before – or any concert, because I’m the only one in the family that likes rock music – so I don’t have an outfit ready.  
  
There’s a text from Tommy on my phone.  
  
_Are you excited yet for tonight?_  
  
If only he knew. I reply: _Yes!_ _I still can’t believe your mom was able to get us these tickets_  
  
_One of the perks of having a mother that works with celebrities_ _  
  
_I open my closet while typing another message. _Definitely. I’m going to change into my rock outfit now_ _  
  
Ooh can’t wait to see you as a rock bitch  
  
Haha you too, _I say. I add a ‘rock on’ hand emoji. _  
  
I’ll be there around 6.15_  
  
_Kay._  
  
I put my phone on charge. I walk to the bathroom and shower. It doesn’t take me long to get ready. I settle on black jeans, a band T-shirt, and my leather jacket with a black beanie. Soon it’s ten past six. I head downstairs and find Mom putting on lipstick.  
  
“Where are you off to?” I ask.  
  
“I have a dinner with my colleagues,” Mom says.  
  
“Oh, right.”  
  
“You look good,” Mom says. “You’re putting on a lot of effort for this date. Are you sure you’re not secretly meeting up with some girl?”  
  
I roll my eyes. “No, Mom. It’s not a date and there’s no girl.”  
  
The doorbell rings. I walk past mom and open the door. Tommy is standing there. He’s wearing black jeans with rips at the knees, boots and a bomber jacket. Effortlessly hot. Tommy must catch me checking him out because he smiles. I blush.  
  
“Cute,” Tommy whispers. I smile awkwardly. It’s difficult to know when Tommy’s serious or when he’s taking the piss.  
  
Tommy offers a wave to Mom and a smile. Before she can start asking questions, I say, “We should head out.”  
  
“You have your phone, right?” Mom asks.  
  
“Yes,” I say.  
  
“Is it fully charged?”   
  
“Yes, Mom.” I pull it from my pocket and show her. The battery’s at 99 percent. She nods.  
  
“Don’t do anything stupid."  
  
“I won’t. I promise.”  
  
“No drinking or smoking.”  
  
“You can trust me,” I say, holding in my exasperation. Before she can say anything else, I walk out the door and close it.   
  
“Drive safe!” Mom yells from inside the house.  
  
*  
  
We arrive way ahead of time. The show won’t start for another hour, but judging by how many people are already lined up outside the Concert Hall, we’re in for a wait. I take off my helmet and get off the back seat. I pull my leather jacket into place. Tommy takes two bottles of water from under the seat and gives one to me.  
  
The evening air is chilly. My breath escapes me in clouds of fog. I study everyone around me. Most of the people are young, but there are some older people – some of them looking like old rock stars with long hair and tattoos.  
  
“Before we go inside, I have something for us,” Tommy says. He reaches into his pocket and presents two pieces of paper.   
  
I take a closer look and see it’s a picture of a green dragon spitting fire and the other one features a princess dressed in pink. “Seriously? Fake tattoos?” Tommy looks unsure and brings back his arm. Then my smile grows and I add, “I love it.” Tommy gazes at me, a sparkle in his eyes, and we both smile.  
  
“So who’s taking which tattoo?” I ask.  
  
“Well, I think it's obvious that I could be seen as a strong and fearsome dragon. And you, well...” Tommy waggles his eyebrows. "You're more of a pretty princess with your slender build and cute butt."  
  
I give him the finger, but I can’t keep myself from laughing. "You're just as 'slender' as I am, you ponce. No way I'm taking the princess."  
  
After a minute of bickering about who gets which tattoo, we decide to play a game of Rock-Papers-Scissors. The winner gets the dragon. We do best out of three. He wins the first round, with his Paper to my Rock. I squint my eyes at him like we’re a pair of cowboys in a stand-off. On the count of three, I play Paper. Tommy plays scissors.  
  
“Hah, take that bitch,” Tommy says. “Here you go.” He hands me the tattoo of the princess and takes the dragon for himself.  
  
I roll my eyes. “Fine.” I pretend I’m disappointed but we already established I’m a lousy actor. Tommy offers to help me with applying the tattoo. He’s having way too much fun with this. I pull up the sleeve of my coat as Tommy removes the protective sheet from the tattoo. He takes my arm and I ignore the warm tingles in my body. After he places the design face-down on my forearm, he wets the paper with a bit of water from his water bottle. After thirty seconds or so, he takes the paper off.  
  
I stare at my arm. There, on my forearm, is a bright, pink princess with a tiny tiara on her head. When I look up, Tommy stares at me with this smug look on his face.  
  
“What?” I say.  
  
“I think it suits you,” Tommy says.  
  
I snort. “Asshole.”  
  
I help him with his tattoo and by the time I’m done, we’re almost inside the building.   
  
The Royal Concert Hall is already full of people when we get inside. We leave our coats at the cloakroom and head towards the stage area. My eyes scan the crows. Ahead of us there is a gay couple. They walk hand in hand proudly. I wish I’d get to do that with Tommy.  
  
“Let’s go,” Tommy says. We meander our way to find a place to stand. Tommy takes out his phone and takes a picture of the stage. He uploads it to Instagram. “And now one of us.” He switches to the front-facing camera. He puts his arm around my shoulder and we smile. The picture is perfect.  
  
“Wait,” I say. “Are you going to put that one on your Instagram as well?”  
  
“Yes?” he says. “Why? Don’t you want me to?”

I think for a moment. Tommy has like 2000 followers on his Instagram and if he’d post a picture of us together, that would put me in the spotlight, which is exactly what I don’t want this year. But when I look at Tommy's face I get this feeling in my gut. A feeling that I don't want to hide from the world. I'm proud of myself and of my friendship with Tommy. “You can post it,” I say after a few seconds.  
  
Tommy smiles. His eyes return to the screen and I watch as he posts the picture with the caption ‘About to see the Manacles live with my little princess!’  
  
I shake my head. I should be feeling anxious because God knows the kind of shit I’ll get for this at school, but when I’m with Tommy, I feel relaxed and happy. I'll deal with the aftermath tomorrow.   
  
*  
  
Three hours later, we file out of the Royal Concert Hall. We’re sweating and smiling. My throat feels sore from all the singing out loud. We both carry our jacket now, the high from the concert keeping us warm.  
  
“We should get something to drink. There’s a Taco Bell nearby.” Tommy points in the direction and we start walking. We manage to order something just before it closes for the night. We get something cold, and I pay. Tommy doesn’t even bother to argue, because he’ll pay next time.  
  
“What now? Are we going home?” I ask when we stand outside the Taco Bell.  
  
“There’s a park not far away from here,” Tommy says. “Want to check it out before we go home?”  
  
“Okay,” I say. We head in that direction. I take a sip of my drink and my throat rejoices. The cool liquid does wonders for my strained vocal cords.  
  
“I think I might lose my voice,” I say.  
  
“You were very loud,” Tommy says. “You surprised me.”  
  
I hold my hand up in the classic rocker symbol. “I had the rock spirit.”  
  
Tommy bumps into me on purpose as we walk. “You’re cute.”  
  
“Stop it. You’re going to make me blush.”  
  
“I know,” Tommy says with a smile.  
  
We walk so close that our shoulders touch. It’s all I can think about in the silence that follows. He’s so close to me.  
  
When we reach the park, we stop walking and turn to study the view. The lights are reflected on the lake before us. This moment is picturesque, it’s perfect. He looks around to see that we’re alone before turning his full attention to me.  
  
“There’s something that I want to do,” Tommy says. “Something I think I need to confirm for myself. I feel like it’s the only way that I’ll know for sure.”  
  
He doesn’t sound sure about himself at all, though. He’s nervous, and it’s cute. Butterflies spring to life in my stomach.  
  
“What is it?”  
  
His eyes move from mine, down to my lips. He studies them before meeting my gaze again.  
  
“I want to kiss you,” he says. “I’ve wanted to for a while now.” His voice is low, gruff, nothing more than a whimper. “Can I?”  
  
My eyes move to his lips. Right now there is nothing more that I want in this world than for Tommy to kiss me.  
  
“Yes.”  
  
One word that changes everything. He closes the distance between us. Tommy’s lips meet mine. I feel his hand in my hair and the soft push of his lips against mine. And for a moment I think that I don’t know how to kiss, but apparently I do know, because everything feels like it should.  
  
Our lips move against each other like a choreography that’s written just for us. And my mind is empty except for this: I am where I need to be. A hundred backflips are happening within me and it seems like there are no bones in my legs anymore – they feel so weak. I never knew that staying upright can be so difficult.  
  
On the way back, neither of us knows what to say, but that's okay. There’s no need for words between us. There's no tension - there's calm and joy that surrounds us. Maybe it's just my mind, but the air smells so much better and everything outside - the trees, the water, the sky – looks better than before.  
  
The parking lot is nearly empty by the time we arrive at Tommy’s scooter. Tommy hands me my helmet and our gaze meets and there’s that spark all over again. He takes a step closer and stands right before me. "You know we have to talk about this."  
  
I nod. "I know." I put my hands on his hips and he leans toward me. His lips touch mine and we’re kissing again. His arms embrace me, our bodies pressed closely together. I’m happy he’s holding tight because the moment I feel Tommy’s tongue against mine is dazzling.  
  
I don’t know how long we stand there. All sense of time is gone. We both smile when the kiss ends and Tommy puts his head on my shoulder. There’s a lot of things to discuss, but for now, I’m just happy to be here with him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is enough yet to be told and I might write a second series where we explore what happens between Tommy and Toby. And of course, Toby's and Tommy's coming out and the aftermath of those events. Feel free to subscribe to me if you want to be informed in case such a series is posted.


End file.
